


Falling Forever

by afangirlimagines



Series: Falling Forever [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Agnes Nutter's Prophecies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Fallen Angels, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Pining Crowley (Good Omens), Pre-Relationship, aint that the whole show tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20469107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afangirlimagines/pseuds/afangirlimagines
Summary: After reading one of Agnes' prophecy reference Crowley as Raphael, Aziraphale has a few questions burning in his mind.





	Falling Forever

“Crowley, dear?”

“Hmm?” The demon replied from his sprawled-out position on the couch, tempted to sleep, but unwilling to waste any time with his precious angel. Though Heaven and Hell were no longer on their backs, Crowley still acted as if he was on borrowed time when with Aziraphale.

“May I ask you something quite personal?”

Crowley sat up, now, across from the angel in his worn leather seat. “Well, you’ve got my ears.”

“The other day, when I had found _The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch_.”

“Bookgirl’s old thing. What about it?”

Aziraphale leaned forward, wondering if he should really be continuing down this line of thought. They hadn’t had enough red wine to do more than loosen the tongue, but now the questions Aziraphale had been holding back wouldn’t stay silent.

“I took the evening through read through the whole thing.” Aziraphale paused. “There was a prophecy which included mention of you.”

“Well, it mentioned us both, now didn’t it? What’s so special about this?” Crowley relaxed back, sinking into the couch, the edge that the angel’s question had brought now seeping out of his system.

“It mentioned you by a different name, though.”

“Yea, yeah. We both remember when I went by Crawley. Don’t remind me. Though if she couldn’t predict a simple name change, maybe we should be asking for a refund. Not so accurate after all, aye, Nutter?”

Aziraphale’s nerves began to play out in his hands, fiddling and fumbling with the reading glasses he held there. Was it even worth pursuing anymore? Maybe not, given Crowley seemed turned off to the subject. But it was much more serious that his silly snake name back in his early demonic career.

“I can hear you thinking all the way over here, angel. Just spit it out already.”

“It referred to you as Raphael.”

Crowley’s body went rigid on the couch, eyes squeezed shut. Memories he had worked hard to repress were now rushing to play before his eyes, regardless of how painfully tight he tried to close them.

Aziraphale moved quickly to Crowley’s side, grasping his hand in his own, rubbing circles with his thumb. “Oh, Crowley, dear. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up such an uncomfortable topic. Please, let’s just forget I brought it up.”

Crowley took another moment to gain his bearings, cursing that he had gotten into the habit of removing his sunglasses when alone with the angel. He didn’t want the angel to see his eyes. Not like this.

“What did it say?”

“Hmm?”

“What did the prophecy say?” He had fallen long before the witch was born and had lived over 5,000 millennia without that name. What would warrant bringing it up in the dumb prophecy book?

“The Woone wonce knowne as Raphael shall be the Carreyer of ye Bringer of thee End Tymes.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That name’s dead to me anyway.” Crowley waved his hand in front of him, leaning forward to grab the unopened bottle of scotch, keeping his face turned away from Aziraphale.

“… May I ask about it? The Fall?” Aziraphale was reluctant to voice his request, knowing Crowley so very rarely spoke about the event. All he knew is that he hadn’t intended to fall, and that, by Aziraphale’s estimate, there were many angels less kind than the demon besides him.

“I suppose one of these days it was bound to come up. But I don’t see why it matters to you so much, Angel.” The bottle’s cork rolled somewhere on the floor and Crowley drank straight from it.

“I’m sorry, dear. I wouldn’t have brought it about just from curiosity. But there are questions that simply aren’t adding up… You see, I _knew_ Raphael. He was the one to teach me how to heal. And he’s not… he’s still with Heaven. Building the distant stars, keeping pace with the scientists’ discoveries of further and further galaxies.”

Crowley scoffed, bitterness filling the room. “Ah, so that’s what I’m up to these days.”

“But you delivered Adam – you told me so yourself. I just… I don’t understand what’s happening.” Aziraphale fell forward, elbows on his knees as he cradled his head. The clashing memories and ideas were giving him a headache that’s only gotten stronger now that he’s begun to voice these suspicions aloud.

“Well, do you remember Warlock ever getting any scrapes growing up?” In response to the angel’s shaking head, Crowley continued. “It’s not that he didn’t. You know I let the boy climb trees and run through thickets. I just healed em away.”

Aziraphale lifted his head slightly to look at Crowley, eyes meeting for the first time since this conversation began. “But demons can’t heal.”

“Unless you were the angel of healing before you fell.” Crowley shrugged, dismissively. “Perks of being a cast out Archangel, I suppose.” Crowley was acting casually, but his angelic companion knew him for too long to believe the act. But, he couldn’t stop himself from asking questions, even if just to get rid of this bloody headache.

“Why can’t I remember you then? I know Raphael. I know I met hi- you. Why can’t I remember?”

“Part of the deal, I suppose. Make everyone who cared about you forget. Plus, I’d imagine it started to get back at Big Ole Brother Luci for his pride.”

“Is that why you fell? Because you knew Lucifer in Heaven?” Aziraphale was sitting up now, looking at Crowley intently. This was a question he had long before he knew of the book, long before Agnes Nutter’s great grandmother was even conceived. Ever since he sensed the goodness in him.

Crowley took a long swig, more half the bottle gone now, before he faced Aziraphale. And the angel really did try his best to convey to Crowley that he wouldn’t judge him, or be upset, but Crowley’s face fell, tears welling up in his eyes too quickly before he could hide them with a miracle pair of sunglasses.

“Crowley, oh, Crowley, dear. It’s okay, I’m sorry. I di –“

“No, just, dammit, give me a moment, Angel. I want to get this out there. It’s just, you know, I really thought I was doing everything right. Lucifer was one of God’s favorite angels. How was I supposed to know that spending time with him would’ve gone so fucking poorly? He asked a few insidious questions that I just couldn’t get out of my mind. Curiosity’s damn contagious. I wasn’t even hanging around him when things started to get bad. I was busy creating the stars at that point. I was helping train new recruits, getting to know these new creations. I…

“I got to meet you. Principality of the Eastern Gate. _God – Someone, _you were so happy the day you got your sword and were told your mission on Earth. I wanted to congratulate you. I wanted to get to know you. You were the only angel that didn’t make me feel like I was just running through the motions. But I didn’t get the chance.

“My trial wasn’t too long after Lucifer’s. Just enough time for him to really get the machinations running Down There. But then I was cast out, for my curiosity, my pride, my being different. And the last thing She told me was that there would be no more Archangel Raphael.”

Crowley took a shuddering breath, feeling comforted by the humanness of breathing. It was a grounding feeling, really. “The last thing I got to create was Alpha Centauri.”

Tears were running down the demon’s cheeks at this point, rendering the shades useless. Aziraphale reached over to wipe the tears with his thumbs, moving the almost empty bottle of scotch so he could properly envelop Crowley in his arms.

They remained like this for most of the evening, Aziraphale focused on comforting the demon, and Crowley simply too tired out to keep talking. He didn’t regret it though. It was cathartic, being left with nothing else to hold back, to eat away at him in silence.

And his angel hadn’t left him. Sure, he had hoped his opening up would flood Aziraphale with his blocked memories, that maybe the trick was simply opening up and God would let at least _his_ angel remember. But, even just knowing that the angel would still accept him, hold him even, was enough of a comfort to keep him standing.

And hopefully, Aziraphale would be more open to a trip to Alpha Centauri now. Crowley had created it for him, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thinking of making another chapter to this, but I'm not sure yet. Wanted to have Zira remember and paint out some of those scenes in Heaven. Lmk if you'd be interested.


End file.
